


As I lay Dying

by CloudStrifeIsMySpiritAnimal



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Cloud Strife, Blood and Injury, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Confused Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Gen, Near Death, Puppet Cloud Strife, Whumptober 2020, but also cloud is mentally a confused teen, but only sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudStrifeIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/CloudStrifeIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: Facing down Sephiroth at the Crossroads of Destiny, Cloud quickly realizes he's no match for the ex-general. Now all he can try to do is get out of there alive, but even that opportunity is rapidly fading. Cloud is certain Sephiroth wants to kill him. But is Sephiroth?Basically I got tired of getting beat by Sephiroth in hard mode of the remake so I wrote this.
Relationships: Sephiroth & Cloud Strife, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 28
Kudos: 183





	1. Please...

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so this pretty much wrote itself while I was trying to beat Sephiroth on hard mode and kept getting my ass *handed* to me. Basically, after hearing Sephiroth ask, "Do I frighten you?" for the 8th time I was just like, yes! Now please just let me cast cura! 
> 
> Oh and the whole blizzaga reference is because I can't seem for the life of me to dodge that. Any other spell and I can dodge it - but blizzard gets me Every. Single. F***ing. Time. 
> 
> Did I mention I'm not a very skilled gamer?
> 
> Also heavily inspired by whumptober 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight at the destiny of crossroads goes a bit differently. Corresponds to whumptober day 6
> 
> *Edited now because I haven't written anything in years that wasn't a research paper or some sort of analysis and I think I forgot how fiction works*

For all her spirit and optimism, Aerith had been wrong. In all fairness, they had _all_ been on board with the idea back on the Midgar Highway, staring up at that impending wall of smoke, the ruins of the Motor Ball sizzling behind them. It had all seemed so straightforward then, so obvious: screw destiny, screw the whispers. They made their own fate.

But now, as Cloud gazed warily at the silver demon before him, calmly raising that massive nodachi over his shoulders and donning that damned smirk, the truth was beginning to sink in. They couldn’t win this fight.

To make matters worse, it had taken a devastatingly short amount of time for Cloud to realize that he was on a fool’s errand. He was good – heck, he was SOLDIER – But the foe he faced now was simply _inhuman_ in his battle prowess, gliding across the battlefield in defiance of gravity and flinging fragments of buildings without batting an eye. He just wasn’t a match for him. Maybe if he’d had his friends with him, maybe if he hadn’t just got done battling three massively overpowered whispers and a giant spinning robotic ball of death, _maybe_ then he would stand a chance. But here and now he was being beaten, and he was being beaten _badly._

He tried to shoulder roll away as the next strike descended, desperately trying to put any distance he could between him and the murderous ex-general. His body was already aching with the beginnings of what he knew would be spectacular bruises and likely a few fractured ribs. As it was, after his last knee-first collision with some flying debris every step was agony, and the loss of speed it resulted in was one he could ill afford.

Green eyes glittered. “Do I frighten you?” Sephiroth all but purred.

Cloud swallowed, readjusting his grip on the Buster Sword as he flicked his gaze up towards the silver monstrosity before him. Cat-like eyes narrowed, moonlit hair flowing gracefully in the wind, heavy leather coat draped around his menacing frame, he was the very image of destruction. Cloud shuddered. If the creatures they had just faced were the Arbiters of Fate, surely this was the Arbiter of Death.

Oh yes, he was definitely frightened. _Terrified_ might have been the better word to explain just how scared he was of this inhumanly beautiful nightmare currently eyeing him hungrily, but he wasn’t about to let slip any signs of weakness. Snarling, he squared his feet into a fighting stance before launching back into the fray. _Don’t let him sense your fear._

It had been horrifying enough when the man had merely been haunting his thoughts, popping up around every corner and doorway just to mock Cloud for his weakness.

_Weakness that was now going to get him – and possibly his friends – killed._

Cloud shook the thought away, and braced himself to counter Sephiroth’s next blow. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as his arms threatens to buckle under the weight of the demon’s strike. He couldn’t afford to get distracted right now - not even by his own impending doom. He could still get out of this, he told himself. It had been a mistake coming here and entering a fight they couldn’t even hope to win – he could see that clearly now - but that didn’t mean he had to just roll over and take it. If he could just find his friends, just find a way to regroup with the others, they could make their escape.

But the Silver General wasn’t making it easy to figure out an exit plan. Cloud could barely manage to secure a few meters of distance between him and his for, let alone slip away from the fight entirely. The man seemed to be able to predict his every movement, his infamous blade whirling and flashing as the blonde struggled just to stay upright. The numerous slashes riddling his exhausted frame was evidence enough that his guard was slipping. Hell, he couldn’t even get away long enough to heal up, and that was rapidly becoming an issue. He’d already lost what was probably way too much blood, and the Mako in his system could only sustain him for so long. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer unless he could find a way to restore some of his strength.

He wasn’t even focused on winning anymore, just on minimizing the damage and holding out until help could arrive or he could slip away – whichever came first. His working strategy up to this point had consisted of blocking and countering at every available opportunity, resorting to rolling and dodging when that didn’t work. It was effective at keeping him relatively shielded, if nothing else, but if his current predicament was any indication, it wasn’t sustainable. He simply couldn’t keep the act up.

The heavy blow to his back that sent him sprawling across the pavement only served to solidify the fact.

Mocking laughter echoed against the surrounding stone as Cloud scrambled back to his feet, right shoulder popping uncomfortably and lungs burning as he struggled to fill them with air. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried to emulate Tifa, to reach down deep inside himself for that elusive energy reserve she claimed could be tapped into in moments of need. He felt a little better, maybe, although it wasn’t the relief he had been promised. Not that he was at all surprised – he’d never been super adept at “harnessing his chi,” (as his childhood friend had so mystically put it). Given the circumstances, however, he was willing to try. 

When he opened his eyes again, Sephiroth’s lips were pulled into a something between a condescending sneer and a self-satisfied smirk. Heart sinking, Cloud could only watch as the man brought a single gloved hand to his chest, preparing to cast blizzaga. Cursing, he flung himself to the side, though ultimately not fast enough to avoid the icy projectile thrown his way. The impact was enough to momentarily daze him before abruptly exploding in a hail of sharp, frozen fragments that sent him sprawling backwards. _Damn ice spells_ , he cursed silently. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to successfully dodge them the way Tifa or Aerith did with frustrating ease. Back in Chadley’s virtual world, fighting against Shiva, it had been more of an annoyance than anything else. Here it was likely to get him killed.

Nursing what he suspected to be a freshly cracked rib, Cloud struggled unsteadily back to his feet. He grunted pain as he once again tried and failed to put some space between him and his attacker. They had been at this for what seemed like hours, and the constant beatings were taking a toll on his enhanced frame. He just needed to heal up, just needed a second’s worth respite, and then he could dive back in and continue to delay the inevitable.

He waited for the former general to tee up his next attack, sidestepping the moment that Masamune twitched, hopeful that by anticipating the attack he could buy himself enough time to tend to his more serious injuries. Before the warm tingling sensation of the Cure could even reach his fingers; however, that long blade was slashing down. Instinctively he was bringing the Buster Sword up to block the blow, healing spell all but forgotten in his sheer panic to _stay the fuck alive._

Sephiroth’s bright green eyes glittered mockingly, eying Cloud’s trembling muscles with barely concealed anticipation. Feeling his arms about to give for the second time, he lashed out with one booted foot, forcing the ex-general to stagger back a couple feet. That was all the window Cloud needed to duck away, mako-laced blue scanning his surroundings frantically as he searched for a way out. Again his thoughts turned to his friends and the hope that they would show up, but on his own like this, scurrying away from Sephiroth like a wounded animal, he was beginning to feel the first hints of bitter resignation. 

It settled in his chest like ice, constricting his lungs and making every gasping breath feel like a fight in its own right. Panic welled up in his throat and his stomach turned uncomfortably. Here he was, putting everything he had into this fight – into just _staying alive_ – and Sephiroth hadn’t even broken a sweat. He didn’t even appear to be the least bit frustrated. No, the bastard looked _amused._

Like he was _toying_ with him.

The silver-haired man held out Masamune, as if beckoning the exhausted blonde forward.

“Come, Cloud,” he taunted.

The blonde’s narrow shoulders slumped wearily. They both knew he couldn’t win, but apparently Sephiroth was determined to draw this out. Gritting his teeth, he raised the Buster sword, trying to ignore the searing pain in his right side from the last time he had collided with the concrete.

“There ya are, merc!” A deep voice rang out, interrupting their standoff.

Both fighters stilled, eyes glancing around the rubble to locate the source of the noise.

“Barret! Clouds cried out in relief, the coil in his stomach beginning to unwind at the sight of his friends emerging from behind a debris pile, weapons leveled and ready to spring into action. Even the newest addition to their motley crew, the dog-like creature calling himself Red, was growling in warning, fangs bared and fur standing on edge.

Help had come. He didn’t have to do this alone

“We got you Cloud!” Aerith called, hefting her staff in a manner that she probably thought was much more intimidating than it turned out to be. Heart rate slowing, he huffed a laugh. _Trust the weird flower girl to make it better._

His smile dimmed, however, as the silver warrior turned menacingly and began to advance slowly, Masamune held lazily at his side.

“You have no place here. Begone.”

With the flick of a wrist, the remnants of a skyscraper were being hurled across the clearing, forcing his friends backwards and settling in a towering heap that effectively walled them off from the dueling pair.

“No!” Cloud shouted, darting forward in panic, only to be stopped as the flat of Masamune pressed warningly against his chest. He turned the blade so that the edge pressed threateningly against the ex-SOLDIER’s knit sweater. He sneered derisively, taking a step forward and pressing cloud to retreat. 

He tutted mockingly, slit pupils dilated in excitement. “We’re not finished yet.”

Cloud hissed in anger, lashing out with the Buster Sword, determined to get away, but Sephiroth was already grabbing the collar of his knit top and hurling him to the opposite end of the pavement.

Cloud groaned, curling in on himself. He wanted nothing more than to just collapse and sink into the ground beneath him. He was so exhausted and already in so much pain, but he _had_ to get to his friends. Coughing weakly, feeling only slightly disturbed when he saw the blood splattering onto the concrete beneath him, he planted the Buster Sword point first into the ground and used it as leverage to haul himself back to his feet.

The silver demon chuckled, amused by his pitiful display. “Such weakness,” he all but crooned. “Will you weep for me, I wonder?”

Spurred on by rage, Cloud hefted his weapon again, lunging forward in an attempt to catch the man’s temporarily unguarded midsection and maybe at least stagger him a bit, but seohiroth was clearly anticipating the move. Twisting lithely out of the way, he drew the long blade in a sideways ‘v,’ landing two quick slashes on the blonde’s already battered torso.

Cursing and huffing, Cloud made to stumble away, but the silver demon was loathe to give him a reprieve. With a blinding flash of steel he descended on the blonde, batting away his pitiful attempts at blocking and burying the Masamune deep in his already injured shoulder. Crying out in pain, Cloud sank to his knees, grimacing as the blade twisted cruelly. Hefting the Buster sword in his off hand, he swung outwards at the silver demon’s knees. Sephiroth backed off, dancing gracefully out of range, but it had the desired effect. With a sickening squelch the Masamune was wrenched from Cloud’s shoulder, leaving the blonde dizzy with pain but at least with more maneuverability. He was barely back on his feet however, when a sharp blow to his lower back sent him flying head-first into the remains of the tower. The force of the impact left his ears ringing and his vision momentarily blacked out. Stomach lurching, he hastily rolled to his side and vomited up the remains of Elmyra’s cooking.

Dizzy and choking back the taste of bile, he made to get to his feet, only to end up pitching over onto his side again. He groaned, painfully aware of the fact that Sephiroth was currently enjoying watching his pitiful struggles to stand. 

“I’m disappointed, Cloud. Surely you can do better than this?”

Cloud shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear it, managing to prop himself up on his arms. _Halfway there._ The world around him was spinning, and every part of him hurt.

“Just s-stop…”

He somehow managed to stagger back to full height. Panting, he watched through his bangs as the older man smirked, Masamune once again held high and taunting.

“Come now, Cloud. Destiny awaits.”

 _Screw destiny!_ He thought bitterly, but raised his sword obediently as the silver demon flew straight at him. He may have well have just stood there for all the good it did. With one swift strike he was thrown into the air, the ground rushing away at an alarming rate. Like something out of his nightmares Sephiroth ascended with him, hair billowing behind him like a cape. There was the flashing of a blade and white hot pain blooming across his arms and torso as that weapon of destruction descended time and time again upon his unprotected form.

When he finally hit the ground, his torso was riddled with fresh cuts and he had a matching puncture wound on his thigh to match the one on his shoulder. Casting a quick glance down at his abdomen, he groaned in dismay. His faded SOLDIER uniform was rapidly being stained a deep crimson as blood flowed from the myriad of wounds he’d collected over the course of the fight. He shuddered weakly as his body spasmed in pain. He was running out of time. 

Lifting his head weakly, he spotted his sword lying just over a foot away. _I can still make it…_

Logically he already knew that it was over, but instincts drew him forward, the pavement dragging painfully across his raw and wounded skin. Biting his lip to keep from crying out he pushed onwards, muscles trembling from the effort.

He heaved a sigh of relief as his fingers curled around the handle, but just as swiftly the blade was kidding far out of reach, spinning a few times before ultimately coming to a rest on the opposite side of the pavement. Suppressing a sob of disbelief, Cloud twisted briefly, just in time to catch sight of the tall figure towering over him, porcelain features twisted in sadistic triumph and infamous nodachi dripping red.

_No, no, no, no, no…._

He had to move, had to get away. Sephiroth was almost on him and based on the manic gleam in those mako green eyes, he had every intention of killing him. He’d known this was coming – had figured this would be the outcome when five minutes into the fight he found himself vastly outmatched – but it turned out foresight did little to quell the absolute terror of watching your death slowly descend upon you.

Panicking, Cloud scrabbled uselessly at the pavement in front of him, searching desperately for anything he could get a hold on to pull himself forward. He could feel the satisfaction rolling off his enemy in sickening waves as he dimly processed that he was being _allowed_ to get farther and farther away. In the end, he only managed to crawl a few feet as Sephiroth advanced leisurely behind him, before he ultimately collapsed, limbs unresponsive and trembling. He could hear his heart racing in time to the silver demon’s footsteps as his soon to be killer slowly and inexorably closed the distance between them. 

_Sorry Tifa._

With one smooth motion Sephiroth drew back a booted foot and landed a heavy kick to Cloud’s side, shoving the boy roughly onto his back.

Cloud gasped, reflexively throwing his hands up to shield himself while still trying to push himself farther away with his one good leg. His heart raced and he shook involuntarily as the man towered over him, Masamune angled directly at his heart. He shuddered, feeling more and more like a butterfly pinned to a board. 

“No, no, no, no, no…”

The shadow descended, and then a leather-clad arm was yanking him forward and wrapping around his trembling shoulders. He didn’t even have the strength to fight as he was hauled into a half-sitting position, Sephiroth cradling his neck and shoulders with one arm in a mockery of a supportive gesture.

“Shall I give you despair?”

The Masamune was too long for Sephiroth to both hold the blonde _and_ the sword’s hilt, but he made do, using a gloved hand to grip the dull side of the blade and position it to hover over Cloud’s sternum.

Blue eyes widened in horror as the ex-general pressed the tip of the blade to the youth’s chest.

“N-no!” Cloud managed to gasp out, hands visibly shaking as tried to shove the larger man off of him. “Don’t!”

Sephiroth smirked down at the trembling blonde, a silver brow arching playfully. “Beg for your life,” he all but purred.

Cloud shivered at the command, but any defiance was quickly squashed as he felt the Masamune’s sharp edge begin to dig into the delicate skin just above his heart.. His lungs all but spasmed in panic and he couldn’t help the sob that wracked his chest, threatening to push the blade in further. He arched away from the contact, breath stuttering. He thought about his mom, about Nibelheim in flames, about Tifa and her father. He wanted more than anything to be strong for them, to be brave…

But the truth was that in this moment he wasn’t brave; he wasn’t strong – he was just _scared._

“Please! Please don’t…” he gasped, gazing up desperately at the man who had singlehandedly ruined his existence. “Please...” _I don’t want to die._

For a moment Sephiroth crouched silently above him, head tilted as if in consideration. Cloud held his breath, adrenaline thundering through his system but his body too weak to do anything with it. For a second he dared to hope…

But then that wicked gleam was back in those serpentine eyes and the Masamune resumed its inexorable descent. Cloud didn’t bother holding back the cry of pain and despair that tore through his throat as the sharp steel was slowly but surely buried in his chest. He’d been stabbed through by the giant blade before - he had the scar to prove it – but the shock that had gripped him the first time was nothing compared to the excruciatingly slow process of feeling his flesh being, inch by inch, torn in two. He flailed desperately, tears blurring his vision as he sliced his palms open trying to dislodge the blade in a futile attempt to halt its trajectory. But the already smooth metal was made even more slippery by his own blood coating it, and every ounce of resistance was met tenfold by Sephiroth’s own intent. 

The blade just wouldn’t stop.

Cloud could hear the blood rushing in his ears as yet another cry was ripped from his tortured body and his lungs convulsed in yet another sob. _Gaia,_ it hurt so badly - his vision was swimming, everything was blurry, he couldn’t focus on anything except those glittering, cold green eyes staring hungrily down at him. He shook his head in denial. Gods, this couldn’t be happening! He wasn’t supposed to die! He was still so young – or at least he was last time he checked - _Gaia_ he couldn’t even remember how old he was...

“S-stop!” 

Sephiroth just smirked.

Around him the world was beginning to darken; an odd tingling sensation was spreading from his fingers and toes as feeling began to leave his limbs. His body sagged in his tormentors arms as the strength began to leave him, the pain too great to comprehend. The tears were leaking freely down his cheeks now, the salty tang mixing with the overwhelming taste of copper on his tongue. Every beat of his heart was pure agony, and he didn’t want to die, _gods_ he didn’t want to die… _please, someone,_ ** _anyone_** _, please don’t let me die…_

He thought of his friends, trapped somewhere and unable to reach him, how much he wished they were here now…Hands shaking uncontrollably, he reached out for the nightmare in front of him, desperately searching for something, _anything_ to hold on to because _Gaia please I can’t do this by myself – don’t make me die here all alone…_ Raw and bleeding hands fisted uselessly in the folds of that thick leather coat, clinging to the only other living soul within reach. His breath hitched as he struggled to form words, eyes widening as he took in the fading sight of those smirking green orbs glittering with victory. He coughed weakly, tears of despair leaking from his half-lidded eyes as he opened his mouth to say what would likely be his last words.

Instead all that came out was a garbled plea.

“S-Seph...iroth...”

Pale brows furrowed. Green eyes flashed. Everything stilled. The pain didn’t disappear, but Cloud knew instinctively that it was no longer trying to dig deeper into his flesh. He gasped raggedly as he searched his tormentor’s expressionless face, desperate to espy even the slightest semblance of mercy.

“Please...”

He let his head fall back against his tormentor’s arm, exhausted and spent. 

Sephiroth hummed, his expression softening.

“What will you give me in return?”

Cloud swallowed thickly as he weakly tried to raise his head, mind still foggy from pain and barely holding onto consciousness. “G-give you?” He echoed uncertainly, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears.

That damned smirk reappeared on the silver demon’s face. “Why should I let you live, puppet? Hmm?” he tilted his head, regarding Cloud almost fondly. “What will you give me to spare you?”

Cloud could barely think, let alone negotiate. It took all of his strength just to ask, “What do y-you want?”

Sephiroth hummed again, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I want everything,” he purred, his grip on the blonde tightening past the point of comfort.

Cloud shuddered and closed his eyes, unable to hold back a pained whimper. He was rapidly slipping into unconsciousness, hands tangled in the man’s jacket beginning to loosen and slip. He grimaced when he felt the Masamune being yanked from his chest, allowing the blood to seep freely from the gaping wound. He almost didn’t hear Sephiroth’s last words.

“But maybe I will settle for you.”


	2. In the Hands of the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud wakes up in the aftermath of his and Sephiroth's fight. 
> 
> Corresponds to the Whumptober 2020 day 2 prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm honestly not sure where this is going from here? It might turn into a bunch of one-shots for whumptober, even though today is - technically - the last day of the month. For now, this chapter continues off of the first one. Honestly if you have any ideas for where you see this going please feel free to tell me! I have a couple of other sephiroth/cloud fanfics I'm working on and this one just kind of happened randomly, so if anyone wants this to go somewhere in particular I'm more than game to think about it. Also I'm purposely wrighting the sephiroth/cloud relationship kind of vague, so you can take it however you want. 
> 
> Also did you know that you can block blizzard spells??? Cause like, I didn't. MAJOR. GAME. CHANGER.

Cloud woke to a splitting headache and a pounding sensation in his ears.  
  
Blue eyes blinked open in sluggish confusion, the bright light of the room proving almost overwhelming to his dulled senses. Was he dead? His brow furrowed as he tried to take in his surroundings. He was in a washroom of some sort, or at least he assumed he must be given that he was currently sitting half-propped up in a pristine white bathtub. So not dead then...he didn’t know much about the lifestream - only what he’d heard second hand from Aerith - but he figured it didn’t involve rusty appliances and cracked tiles. He could feel the cool kiss of the porcelain against the skin on back, and looking down he was greeted by the sight of his otherwise bare torso wrapped in bandages.  
  
He gazed in bewilderment at the gauze layers stretched carefully over his bruised and mottled skin, trying to understand what was happening. Had his friends found him?  
  
He made to sit up further and scoot towards the middle of the tub, only to be met with a sharp tugging sensation at his wrist. His eyes followed the length of his arm to where his gloveless hand was cuffed firmly to the temperature dial just over the tub’s faucet.  
  
Okay, so not his friends then.  
  
With a huff he settled back against the tub, arm still held uncomfortably stretched over his head. With his free hand he reached tentatively to prod at the cloth dressings wrapped around his chest hiding the wound Sephiroth had so lovingly inflicted.  
  
He froze.  
  
 _SEPHIROTH._  
  
Did that mean the man had actually spared him?  
  
His breathing stilled.  
  
It did, didn’t it?  
  
It was the only explanation. That, or maybe Shinra had finally caught up to them. But he figured if that were the case, he would currently be trussed up in some official looking holding cell awaiting interrogation, not sitting here in what appeared to be a hotel bathroom.  
  
Cloud tilted his head back to rest against the cool white tile. He knew the revelation should have made him panic, but for some reason all he could focus on at that moment was the overwhelming sense of relief at actually being alive. It flooded his limbs, rendering him boneless and floppy, and he bit back a sob of gratitude. Gaia, he had been so sure he was going to die back there. The silver demon had been relishing in his pain, those cat-like eyes glinting in cold satisfaction every time a scream was wrung from his trembling form.  
  
 _“Beg for you life.”_  
  
He shuddered. He had always imagined he would face down death like the hero he tried to be, unflinching and uncaring. But the moment he had felt that blade press warningly against his sternum, something inside him had just snapped. He wasn’t Cloud Strife, SOLDIER first class, he was that scared little boy in Nibelheim who everyone tried to pick on. He wasn’t the brave warrior running to his friends’ rescue, he was the broken son watching in horror as his mother was struck down before his eyes, the scared teenager clawing uselessly at the ground as the town around him burned. He curled in on himself as far as his shackled position would allow, the soft buzzing noise of the handcuff rattling against the metal of the tub alerting him to the fact that somewhere along the line he’d begun trembling again. _Pathetic_. He ground his teeth angrily, wrapping his free arm around his midsection in a semblance of a hug. He was a failure. He should be mortified, or at the very least deeply ashamed. His friends were still out there somewhere - likely in danger, and he had debased himself in a pitiful display of weakness before the man he hated most in this world…

He should be consumed by self-hatred.

And yet all he could think about was how grateful he was to still be alive.

 _Some hero you turned out to be_ , he thought bitterly.

Besides, what did this mean for him? Had he even thought about the implications of his actions, He had lived, yes, but at what cost? What did Sephiroth have planned for him? He obviously hadn’t spared Cloud just out of the goodness of his non-existent heart, had even hinted as much.  
  
 _“What will you give me in return?”_  
  
What did the silver demon want with him?  
  
Of course that had been the question all along, hadn’t it? The question that had plagued his thoughts and haunted his sleep every time the monster whispered in his ear or showed up to taunt him about his failures. Was it revenge? Retribution for stabbing him back in the Nibelheim reactor?  
  
 _Calm down Strife, you’re losing it._  
  
He sucked in a deep breath, holding it until his lungs burned before slowly exhaling the now stale air. He had to get a grip. Panicking wouldn’t get him anywhere. He had to escape, had to get back to his friends and away from the monster who had caught him. Experimentally he tugged at the restraint on his wrist. He should be able to break it - if not the cuff itself then he would just have to yank the faucet and dials from the wall. Having a heavy metal bathroom appliance hanging from his sword arm wouldn’t be ideal, but it would be highly preferable to staying here and waiting for his captor to return. He grimaced at the mental reminder that he no longer had the Buster Sword.  
  
As he made to yank his arm free however, a heavy fatigue flooded his limbs and his head exploded in agony. Clutching at his temples with his free hand, Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ride out the pain. When it finally passed he lay limply in the tub, his whole body feeling numb and boneless and his breath coming in shallow gasps. He knew he should be getting up and trying again, should be pushing his limits even now just to escape, but his limbs felt like lead and his head weighed heavily on his shoulders. Darkness swam before his eyes as his surroundings gradually began to fade. His head pounded and consciousness was rapidly slipping away. Left with no better options, he closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing touch of the porcelain against his aching skin.  
  
So…maybe that was a no to escaping.

\----------------------------------------------------

  
At some point Cloud must have fallen asleep, because the sudden swing of a door had him jolting upright. The bright sunlight that had filtered through the thick glass window had faded to a distant glow, indicating that a few hours had passed. His heart hammered wildly as he listened with trepidation to the approaching footsteps, trying to steel himself for the inevitable.

He gave a violent flinch as the overhead light switched on.  
  
As it turned out, no amount of mental fortitude could prepare him for the sight of his captor rounding the corner and entering his field of vision. In the relatively small confines of the bathroom, Sephiroth appeared larger than life, towering over the huddled blond in all of his shiny, black leather glory. Masamune was nowhere to be seen, though that did little to lessen the near stifling aura of intimidation that he naturally projected.

Green eyes gazed down at Cloud calmly, pale face void of expression as the blond shrank back against the walls of the tub. Cloud’s heart sank, and he tried swallowing the lingering taste of bile that had crept up from the back of his throat. Suspecting that it was Sephiroth who had taken him and seeing the man again in person were two very different things. Any lingering hope of survival or seeing his friends again vanished the moment he espied those long, silver locks. Suddenly feeling very cold and exposed, Cloud wrapped his free hand around his midsection and drew his knees in closer to his chest. He fixed his eyes resolutely on his booted feet, although he wasn’t sure if it was stubbornness or fear that kept him from meeting his captor’s gaze. He mentally cursed himself for letting himself fall asleep rather than keep trying to escape.  
  
He didn’t dare to breathe, anxiety roiling in his stomach as a gloved hand took a firm but gentle hold of his chin, tilting his head so that he was forced to look at the man’s visage. Green eyes scanned his face searchingly, and resisted the urge to glance away. Try as he might, he couldn’t discern whatever meaning lay hidden in those carefully composed features.

He wished he could stop shaking.

“My, but you’re a young one, aren’t you.”  
  
Cloud swallowed nervously. He felt frozen - unable to move or speak, and worst of all unable to tear his gaze away from the terrifying creature before him. The man’s voice was like silk: soft and smooth and utterly irresistible. He didn’t know whether he should pull away or lean in closer.  
  
“So new - so untested. So unlike that other...” Green eyes narrowed. “How old are you, puppet?”  
  
“I...” Cloud could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He instinctively recoiled at the pet name, although why it bothered him quite so much he wasn’t sure. Glancing down at the pearly white base of the tub, unable to meet the man’s gaze any longer, he reluctantly admitted, “...I don’t know.”  
  
He started at the feeling of leather pressing gently against his cheek as the gloved hand moved from his chin to cup his face, yet again gently tilted his head up. “What _do_ you remember, then?”  
  
Cloud licked his lips nervously, confused by the question but terrified of angering the man. “...I remember SOLDIER,” he said after a beat, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I remember the training, and then the mission to Nibelheim. I remember...” he trailed off, uncertain as to whether he should continue. _I remember you burning down my home_ didn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing that would win him points with the ex-general.

He tried to turn away, only for the hand on his cheek to tighten in warning. “Don’t look away, Cloud.”

He didn’t want to, but something inside him felt compelled to obey. He turned his gaze back to the man in front of him.

Sephiroth regarded him closely, eyes still searching. “What else?”

Cloud just shook his head, unsure of what else to say and desperately wishing the silver demon would just let him go. Maybe if he was vague enough Sephiroth would relent. He doubted it.  
  
Those cat-like eyes narrowed in something almost akin to frustration. That certainly didn’t bode well. “And nothing more?”  
  
Cloud just gazed back, confused and at an utter loss.  
  
Sephiroth sighed, withdrawing his hand. Cloud’s shoulders slumped in relief at the loss of contact, though if his captor noticed he didn’t let on. “Hmm...I suppose your mind would be a bit muddled. But no matter. If nothing else, your body seems to recall its prowess. And you still have the gifts bestowed by Hojo.”  
  
Cloud blinked vapidly at the mention of the professor. “Hojo?” he echoed, uncertainly. What did that deranged bastard have to do with anything?

Sephiroth gazed at him with pity. “I suppose it is too much to hope that you remember that either.”  
  
Clouds heart was racing. “R-remember what?”  
  
Sephiroth hummed, tilting his head in contemplation before fixing Cloud with an intense look. “How do you suppose you received your enhancements?” he finally asked.  
  
Frowning, Cloud replied, “The same way every SOLDIER receives them - Mako showers and injections.” What was Sephiroth playing at? In all the confusion he was starting to forget his fear.  
  
The silver demon gave him a condescending smile. “No, puppet. I’m afraid your enhancement process was quite different from the norm.”  
  
Cloud swallowed thickly. “I don’t understand...”  
  
A gloved hand reached out to settle in his hair, petting the blond spikes almost reassuringly. “Fret not, young one,” the silver demon crooned. “All will he explained in time. For now, just know that you are special.”  
  
He withdrew his hand, and Cloud was left staring after him in confusion, completely unaware that he had ducked his head in an attempt to chase after the comforting touch.   
  
“You’re not going to kill me?” He breathed, trying to stay calm and keep the disbelief out of his voice. Nothing was making sense anymore, and he had to keep it together.  
  
To his surprise Sephiroth smiled, and this time it wasn’t one of his trademark smirks. Instead it seemed almost fond. “No, puppet,” he said softly. “It seems you were made for me. It would be a shame to waste such a precious gift. Especially not now, when you are so fresh and malleable.”  
  
Something in Cloud recoiled at that statement, but he was too exhausted to process the implications. Instead he asked, “And my friends? What about them? Are they okay?" 

"You'll be relieved to know I left them alive." 

The blond shut his eyes, sucking in a thankful breath. "So you're not gonna kill them either?"   
  
Sephiroth stood. “Not unless they get in my way.” His heavy coat flapped around his ankles as turned and made to walk towards the door.  
  
Worried, Cloud called after him. “Wait! Your way? What - what are you planning!?”  
  
Like a doting parent trying to calm a wayward child, Sephiroth actually hushed him, raising a single finger to those perfectly sculpted lips. His eyes gleamed, though with what Cloud couldn’t tell. “That’s enough for now, Puppet. Rest. All will be explained in good time.”

But Cloud wasn’t content to leave it at that. He still had so many questions. “Why do you keep calling me that?” he inquired, cringing at the level of desperation in his voice.

Sephiroth just shook his head and smiled slightly, raising a glowing hand.  
  
Knowing what was about to happen Cloud tried to protest, but then there was a soft flash of green light and his consciousness began to drift. Before he faded though, he managed one last query, his voice nothing more than a tentative, scared whisper that echoed eerily in the silence of the bathroom. “What _am_ I to you?”  
  
“All in good time,” the silver haired man repeated, his voice sounding increasingly distant to Cloud’s rapidly dulling ears.

A sense of unease filled the blond as the warmth of the sleeping spell washed over him and a door somewhere behind him swung shut. The last thing he remembered before being carried off into unconsciousness was thinking that somehow, someway, he was already supposed to know the answer.


	3. Alt. 12. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Cloud try to figure out how to talk to each other. It's a tall task when they both suck at communicating. 
> 
> Warnings for partial drowning.
> 
> Edit: rearranged things slightly.

The next time Sephiroth appeared, Cloud was ready. He sat up straight, free hand folded casually in his lap as he watched the man enter, clear blue eyes tracking his every moment, scanning for even the slightest sign of aggression. He was SOLDIER, dammit. He could do this.

Sephiroth seemed to notice the difference too. He smirked when he saw Cloud, taking in his alert expression as the blond fought to keep his resolve. “Planning to run?” he taunted.

“Planning to unchain me?” Cloud retorted angrily. 

Sephiroth’s smirk just widened, and he leaned back against the counter across the room, his broad shoulders reflected in the landscape mirror behind him. He crossed his arms smugly. “Good. You’ve got some of your spirit back. For a moment there you were almost unrecognizable.”

Cloud hissed in annoyance. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Nor did you answer mine,” the silver demon acknowledged with a slight dip of his head.

Cloud sighed, shifting slightly. This was getting him nowhere. “What do you want with me?” he finally asked, his voice coming out exhausted and strained. He was still technically at this man’s mercy, even though he currently was fantasizing about all the ways he could strangle a certain ex-general to death.

“My, my, such violent thoughts you have,” that silky voice admonished in a resounding purr.

Cloud’s eyes widened, abruptly taken aback. Off to the side, Sephiroth was eyeing him closely, that damned smirk still plastered on his face like it was a permanent feature there. He leaned forward, shoulders hunched in an almost predatory fashion, and Cloud recoiled instinctively.

“H-how did you...?”

Sephiroth’s grin turned feral. “I can see everything, little one.”

The blond bristled. “Bullshit!” He _really_ wished he could wipe that smug expression off the man’s face. Preferably with a well-placed punch.

“Do you think you can?”

Cloud stilled. He hadn’t just - he couldn’t have-

“Oh, but I can, Cloud.”

Cloud’s breath stuttered in a mix of absolute shock and sheer horror. This wasn’t possible, and yet…

“...get out of my head,” he whispered.

Sephiroth chuckled. “If you weren’t so ineffectual at concealing your thoughts, I just might be able to.”

Snarling, Cloud made to lunge at the older man, momentarily forgetting the restraint around his wrist. He grunted in pain as his arm was yanked backwards, the force of it causing his feet to slip on the frictionless surface of the tub and sending him crashing back down, knocking his head against the tiled wall in the process.

“Careful now,” Sephiroth’s smooth baritone chided. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, would we?”

Cloud just shook his head, huffing a breath of disappointment. His frustration was reaching a boiling point, and he was at an utter loss. “Why am I here?”

“You asked me to spare you, did you not?”

Cloud averted his gaze. He didn’t exactly want to be reminded of his sudden act of cowardice.

Sephiroth hummed. “Though I must confess, you showed quite a bit more self-preservation than I would have expected.”

The blonde just rolled his eyes. _Whatever_.

“I wonder how long it will take to break you of that.”

Cloud’s breath caught in his throat. He whipped his head to the side to stare at his captor in dawning horror, dread pooling in his stomach as he took in the sight of the ex-general’s leering gaze. If he hadn’t thought the man incapable of such emotions, he would have sworn those serpentine eyes glittered with something akin to glee. Anger momentarily forgotten, he shrank back to the edge of the tub, instinctively trying to put as much space as possible between him and his enemy. 

The silver demon just chuckled. “You are such a fearful creature, aren’t you?” he remarked, his tone suggesting that somehow, he found this observation to be utterly fascinating. He tilted his head thoughtfully, narrowed eyes glinting. “That too, will change in time.”

Again Cloud tensed, and again Sephiroth merely laughed. “Fret not, puppet,” he crooned, straightening up to his full height. “There is no need for me to inflict upon you what life surely will.”

He smirked knowingly, and pulled a small dark object out from inside his coat, setting it carefully on the counter. Cloud stilled when he recognized it.

His PHS.

It was right there – he could call for help…if only he could reach it.

Sephiroth’s eyes glinted coldly as he watched Cloud stare at the communication device longingly.

With that, the silver demon made his exit.

Left alone with his thoughts, the lure of freedom so tantalizingly close, the blonde frowned. There was something entirely unsettling about the way Sephiroth had so calmly made those threats…

…Like they weren’t threats at all, merely assurances.

\-----------------------------------------------

Sephiroth left him alone for almost an entire day. Cloud didn't normally mind solitude, but in this case it unnerved him. He was too on edge, too alert. Not to mention that his injuries were healing rather slowly, and he was still in quite a lot of pain. Left alone with only his thoughts for company, he found his mind constantly drifting back towards his captor's ominous words. He slept sparingly, and when he did his dreams were haunted by visions of green and daintily folded hands, of a crystal clear lake and a shimmering orb bouncing off of faded stone. 

He woke up in tears.

He was almost relieved when Sephiroth finally returned, and in his addled state he immediately blurted the question that had been plaguing him ever since their fight.

“Why haven’t you killed me?”

Sephiroth chuckled. “You keep asking me that. Do I truly frighten you so?”

Cloud glanced away, hoping his captor wouldn’t notice his blush of embarrassment.

The silver demon hummed. “Does it truly matter why?” he questioned.

Cloud’s eyes widened. “You – you said…”

Understanding dawned in Sephiroth’s green gaze. “You are waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.”

Cloud nodded, reluctantly. “I just don’t understand what you want from me,” he muttered. 

“There is much you don’t understand, young one.”

Blonde eyebrows furrowed in consternation. He was finding that he was increasingly annoyed by Sephiroth’s choice in pet-names.

“You should learn to live with uncertainty,” his captor told him, heading for the door.

He was almost there when, struck by a sudden impulse, Cloud found himself scrambling to the edge of the tub - as far as the handcuff would allow - so that he could face the retreating figure.

“Sephiroth!”

The ex-general stilled, turning slightly to regard him with a questioningly raised eyebrow.

Cloud stood there for a moment, unsure as to what he was trying to do. The moment his captor made to turn away again; however, the words tumbled from his lips on their own accord.

“Don’t...don’t kill Aerith.”

The other eyebrow rose to meet its twin, and the man’s green eyes widened fractionally. “Interesting,” Sephiroth murmured quietly, almost to himself, before he spun around and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Cloud sank back down, utterly confused, and at a complete loss as to why he had felt compelled to ask that of his captor. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Sephiroth was staring at him. Just staring. It made Cloud nervous.

At last the ex-general broke the silence. “You’re slow."

Cloud blinked. He hadn’t seen his captor for hours, and now that he finally graced him with his presence _that’s_ what he chose to say?

He rolled his eyes. “Is that your idea of a taunt?” he scoffed. “It’s not exactly as dramatic as you normally go for.”

“Hmm. No. Merely an observation.”

Cloud shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…okay.”

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, his gaze calculating. “You’re too slow. Faster than you should be, but slower than you were.”

Cloud stared at the man, mouth agape, realizing that the Silver General was _not_ in fact, trying to provoke him. “You realize that makes absolutely no sense, right?”

Sephiroth sighed. “Exactly.”

And then he left.

Cloud gazed in bewilderment at nothing in particular.

_What the fuck?_

\--------------------------------------------------

Cloud was getting frustrated. And angry. Sephiroth wasn't telling him anything, and he hated feeling like this, alone and lost. He wanted answers - he wanted _anything_ other than the confusing, disjointed stream of information he was currently receiving. His PHS still sat infuriatingly out of reach on the counter, a constant reminder of the freedom he lacked. 

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Cloud remarked the next time Sephiroth came to see him.

“So I’ve noticed,” the other commented drily.

The blonde huffed, “Well are you going to tell me?”

Sephiroth hummed. “I haven’t decided.”

A sudden, horrifying thought occurred to the smaller warrior.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

That at least got him a response, as Sephiroth turned his head sharply to glare at Cloud. He gave no verbal response, just narrowed his eyes and straightened, turning back to the door.

\--------------------------------------------------

You’re unusually weak today,” Sephiroth commented, the next time he came to visit.

Cloud glared up irritably from where he was collapsed against the side of the tub. “What did you expect to happen?” he spat. “You haven’t fed me in three days.”

“Why didn’t you ask for sustenance, then?”

Cloud just huffed, fixing his eyes on the tiled wall opposite him.

“Ah, I see.”

Momentarily shaken, Cloud whirled on his captor. “What!?”

Sephiroth smirked. “You didn’t want to have to beg me again.”

Cloud could feel the blush starting to spread from his ears and he looked resolutely away. Admittedly, Sephiroth was right. Once was enough.

More than enough.

But still, not providing food seemed like a bit of an oversight. Water wasn’t a problem – not when he was literally sitting under a faucet. But still.

“Pride will get you nowhere,” his captor told him plainly. “Unless you wish to end up dead?”

Maybe if Cloud had been thinking more clearly, he would have better controlled his reactions. As it was, he was half delirious from hunger. He snarled, impulsively grabbing his right boot and pulling it off his foot.

Then he chucked it at the silver general.

Predictably, Sephiroth dodged the projectile with ease, causing it to miss his head and hit the mirror instead. Unfortunately, delirious or not, Cloud was still enhanced, and the force of the collision caused the glass surface to promptly shatter. The crashing sound was so loud that the blonde flinched back, though of course the silver general just stared on impassively. He momentarily surveyed the damage, before turning back to Cloud, his eyes narrowed slits.

_Oh shit._

“That was foolish,” he stated calmly, pushing off the counter to step closer. Cloud instantly shrank back against the wall.

“What exactly were you trying to accomplish?” the silver demon pressed, green eyes blazing as he drew himself to full height. “Do you really wish to test me?”

Cloud shook his head numbly.

_Nope. Definitely not._

“Then why, may I ask, do you insist on being so obstinate? To preserve your dignity? Surely you must realize this will not help your cause?” He glowered at the blonde, lips curling back in a sneer. “I know you can be more amenable – I have seen you act as such.” The silver-haired demon leaned down, caging him against the back of the tub. “Perhaps you just need to be persuaded?” Cloud cringed as the man’s breath ghosted over his ear, but he refused to dignify the man’s taunt with a response.

Sephiroth chuckled darkly. “You are reluctant to speak?” 

Cloud felt his stomach tense up in warning as a hand settled on his shoulder.

_Shit._

“Don’t worry,” the silver demon whispered. “I can make it easy for you.”

With one smooth motion the ex-general slammed him against the floor of the tub, his shackled arm yanking painfully as it was stretched to its limit. In the moments where he was still dazed he heard the tell-tale click of the drain being closed and then cold water was spraying harshly down on his head. Instinctively he tried twisting away, but Sephiroth had his head firmly pinned down beneath the icy jet, and the impact drove the breath from his lungs. Above him he could hear Sephiroth’s voice, still taunting, calling down to him through the daze.

“You don’t want the shame of having willingly submitted?”

A hand fisted in his hair, twisting his head so that his nose and mouth were angled directly beneath the steady stream.

“Allow me to alleviate you of that burden.”

Desperate to keep his lungs dry, Cloud clamped his mouth shut, thrashing desperately against Sephiroth’s iron grip. He was already running out of air, and things were only going to get worse. The water level in the tub was steadily rising, and with his cheek planted firmly against the smooth porcelain; it would only be a matter of time before he was completely submerged.

By the time he realized that struggling was useless, he had lost the ability to even cry out in protest. The water was up past his lips now and Sephiroth’s hold was unrelenting, meaning his opportunity to cry uncle had come and gone. He held his breath for all he was worth, all the while struggling desperately to get his head above water long enough to gasp in a hungry breath. His captor’s cold laughter was silenced abruptly as the water flowed past his ears.

His lungs burned, not at all aided by his continued struggles, and the pressure pounded in his skull. Sephiroth had one hand on the small of his back and the other pressing down on the top of his head, leaving him effectively pinned, and all the while the cold water pounded down mercilessly chilling his bones and making his insides freeze.

His lungs were beginning to spasm, and to his horror he felt small bubbles begin to escape his lips. It was only a matter of time now before they would start to fill with water, and Sephiroth seemed nowhere near ready to let him up.

_Can’t – need…please -_

His limbs spasmed weakly, his body aching for air. Against his wishes he felt his lungs constrict in a cough, and without warning water was flooding in through his nose and throat. Out of ideas, Cloud did the only thing he could think of. He reached out blindly with his free hand, flailing wildly until he felt it connect solidly with a leather clad bicep.

And then he tapped out.

Just like that he was being yanked upwards as the water around him began to swirl and recede, the drain having obviously been released.

Coughing and spluttering, he didn’t even pay attention to how the man was almost cradling him in his arms – didn’t think to question how Sephiroth was able to perfectly interpret his actions. He was too desperate for oxygen as he sucked in breath after hungry breath. When at last he had expelled the last of the water he let his head fall back limply, not even surprised when he felt an arm come up behind it to support him. Sephiroth’s green eyes stared down at him smugly.

“Shall I get you something to eat?”

Cloud could only nod, his lungs and throat burning too badly to form words.

\------------------------------------------------------

Cloud sat shivering in the rapidly draining tub as he waited for Sephiroth to return, clothes soaked through and hair plastered to his forehead.

He must have spaced out for a second, because before he knew it his captor was back, holding a single green apple which he deftly tossed at the blonde.

Cloud moved to catch it, but his fingers were numb and unresponsive and the fruit ended up bouncing past him and rolling into the corner of the tub.

Sephiroth watched, clearly unimpressed, as he scrabbled to get a hold of it. He honestly didn’t care what germs it had picked up. He was too hungry.

Green eyes gazed at him calculatingly as Cloud bit into the bruised skin of the apple. He was shivering almost uncontrollably now, and he had a feeling his lips were turning blue. Sighing, he sat back, meeting the ex-general’s stare.

“Can I get a towel, or…something?”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, before straightening and walking just out of Cloud’s field of vision. The blonde could hear the sound of a cabinet door being opened, and then the silver demon returned carrying a faded blue towel. He tossed it at Cloud, aiming a bit more carefully this time now that he knew the blonde’s reflexes were somewhat lacking.

The blonde reluctantly set the apple down, just long enough to wrap the dry cloth around his shoulders with his free hand.

“Thanks,” he muttered, once he was settled.

It was a testament to how starving he was that he ate entire apple – core and all. When he was finished, Sephiroth straightened from his slouched position, holding out an expecting hand. “Give me your boot,” he ordered.

“Huh?”

Sephiroth sighed. “Your boot.”

Cloud looked at him dumbfounded. “Seriously?”

“Apparently footwear in your hands can be weaponized. I won’t have you causing any more destruction.”

When Cloud failed to move, the ex-general’s glittered dangerously. “Do we need a repeat lesson in compliance?”

The blonde huffed his annoyance, but reached down obediently to pull of his remaining shoe. Reluctantly, he held it out to his captor. “What next?” He asked. “Are you going to take my clothes, too?”

A pale eyebrow arched. “Are you suggesting I need to?”

Cloud swallowed, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

Sephiroth leaned back against the counter, watching him sternly. “This doesn’t have to be so difficult, Cloud. I am currently undecided about how to proceed here. Don’t tempt me to tip the scales against you.”

The blonde shivered, wrapping the towel tighter around his trembling frame and curling his toes away from the cold.

A sudden, shrill beeping noise broke the silence.

Both pairs of mako-enhanced eyes darted to the PHS on the counter. There was only a handful of people who had that number…

“My friends...” Cloud breathed, desperation and hope warring in his mind. He glanced beseechingly up at his captor. “Please, let me talk to them?”

A silver eyebrow arched and Sephiroth was staring at him with mild amusement, like he was a kid having asked a ridiculous question.

Which, in a way, he supposed he was. But he still had to try. “Please?” He repeated uncertainly, “Just to let them know I’m alright - nothing else I swear.”

Sephiroth glanced back at the PHS, debating.

Hope stirred in Cloud’s chest. “I don’t even know where we so it’s not like I can give anything away. Please, I just want to talk to them.”

The ex-general looked at him for a long moment, considering. Cloud glanced worriedly at the phone, trying to count how many rings it had left before it went to voicemail. Then, surprisingly, Sephiroth picked up the small device and tossed it at him. He panicked for a second, remembering his tingling fingers, but fortunately he managed to catch it in his free hand before it smashed against the back wall. Eyeing Sephiroth warily, he flipped it open.

_“Cloud??”_

He closed his eyes, relishing the sound of his childhood friend’s voice.

“Tifa,” he breathed.

“ _You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice! We were all so worried about you, Gaia, Cloud are you alright??? We couldn’t find you - everything just disappeared and we were back on the highway and you were just GONE - oh gods please tell me you’re okay!?”_

Cloud took a deep breath, a faint smile pulling at his lips despite the severity of his situation. “I’m fine, Tifa.”

 _“Thank the goddess,”_ came the sigh of relief from the other end, and Cloud felt something in his heart lurch painfully at the sound. _“Where are you? We‘ll come get you - just hang tight!”_

Blue eyes glanced nervously over at Sephiroth, who’s collected expression seemed to somehow be daring him to make a false step. Cloud swallowed. “Uh...I’m not sure...”

_“Any noticeable landmarks? Anything to help us find you?”_

Clouds head was beginning to hurt. “I don’t think that’ll work, Tifa.”

On the other end of the line Tifa huffed, clearly frustrated. _“Okay, okay...let’s just think. You couldn’t have gotten far, right? How did the fight end? Did you get thrown somewhere?”_

Cloud grimaced. “Not exactly.”

 _“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’”_ Tifa’s voice was taking in an edge of worry. _“Cloud what’s going on?”_

Green eyes watched him, their expression calculating.

“I’m sort of...stuck,” he finally settled on.

_“Stuck? Like under some rubble or something?”_

“Ah...no.”

_“Cloud what am I missing here? What aren’t you telling me??”_

Cloud swallowed, unsure of what to say.

 _“Is it something to do with Sephiroth?”_ she prodded. _“Did he get away?”_

Cloud grimaced. “Not exactly,” he whispered again.

There was momentary silence from the other end as she took that in. Then finally it dawned on her.

 _“Oh gods,”_ she breathed.

_“He has you, doesn’t he?”_

His throat suddenly felt very dry. “Yeah,” he whispered.

_“Cloud you’ve gotta get out of there! You have to run, now!”_

He scoffed bitterly. “Don’t you think I’d have already tried that if it was an option?”

He could hear hushed voices as Tifa whispered something to someone on her end, clearly trying to keep their voices down. When she returned to the phone her voice was tight with worry. _“Has he hurt you?”_ She asked, sounding for all the world like she didn’t want to know the answer to that.

Clouds shoulders slumped. He briefly considered his still wet hair. “Not too badly,” he conceded, relieved he could at least give her that reassurance. “At least, not since the fight.”

_“Oh gods – what did he do? Please tell me you’re okay –”_

“It’s fine – really – I…” Cloud swallowed, eyes flicking guiltily to the shattered mirror. “I may have…provoked him,” he admitted in a quiet grumble.

_“Cloud, what the hell were you thinking!? You have to be more careful!”_

The blonde huffed, painfully aware that his silver-haired eavesdropper could hear everything from both ends of the line. “Now’s really not the time for one of your lecture’s Teef.”

The voices on the other end were steadily growing louder and more panicked. He vaguely heard Barret shouting somewhere in the background and he had to suppress a fond smile. Tifa’s next words however, were anything but reassuring. _“Okay okay - were coming for you alright? We’ll get you out of there -“_

Cloud jolted, instincts telling him to jump to his feet and spring into action. “No! Tifa - you guys have to stay away!”

Confusion and hurt seeped through her tone as she cautiously responded, “ _Cloud of course we’re coming for you!”_

Cloud shook his head frantically, momentarily forgetting she couldn’t see what he was doing. “Please, just trust me! This isn’t a fight you can win - okay? Believe me, I know.” His gaze flicked over to Sephiroth, who was leaning back casually against the sink counter, one pale eyebrow arched in curiosity.

Cloud took a deep breath. “ _Please,_ Tifa, you have to listen to me. He was just toying with us back there - he’ll wipe the floor with you and then some. _Please_ \- I can’t lose you too...”

There was silence from the other end. Finally, Tifa spoke. _“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”_

Cloud huffed a bitter laugh. “Would you even believe me if I said yes?”

He heard a strained chuckle from the other end. _“Just get back to us in one piece, okay?”_

“I’ll try,” he murmured. “Besides...” he heaved a deep breath, casting a skeptical look Sephiroth’s way. “I don’t think he means to hurt me.”

At this Sephiroth raised his brows, seemingly surprised, though he made no comment.

_“Cloud he’s insane – we can’t trust him!”_

Cloud watched nervously as his captor tapped his wrist meaningfully. He knew instinctively what that meant.

Time was almost up.

“I’m not asking you to trust him, Tifa,” he breathed. “I’m just asking you to trust _me._ ”

A pause. _“Please just be careful?”_

Cloud shut his eyes, nodding against the phone. “I will. I have to go, okay? I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk to you next so just – don’t do anything stupid.”

Tifa huffed a laugh. _“That’s rich, coming from you.”_

“Take care, Teef.”

Cloud grimaced as he listened to the line go dead, before sighing and snapping the PHS shut.

Just beside the tub, Sephiroth stood waiting, hand-held out expectantly.

Obediently, Cloud handed the device over, refusing to meet his captor’s eyes.

“Do you honestly believe that?” The man’s deep voice rumbled.

Cloud glanced up, brows furrowing in question.

“That I don’t intend to hurt you.”

Cloud swallowed. “Do you?”

Sephiroth hummed in consideration. “Not unless you give me a reason,” he finally conceded.

“What constitutes a reason?” The blonde ventured to ask, but the ex-general remained impassive and unreadable. Cloud hung his head, shoulders slumping in exhaustion.

“What gave you such hope, I wonder, that you would believe such a thing?”

Cloud shook his head. “I just needed my friends to believe it.”

“You value them.” It wasn’t a question.

Cloud just nodded.

Sephiroth hummed. “I suppose somethings never change,” the silver haired man mused.


	4. Now Where did That Come From?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignoring an injury - day 30
> 
> Sephiroth and Cloud come to a tentative arrangement. 
> 
> *unedited*

“You said I was special,” Cloud murmured quietly. “What did you mean?”

“You are unique - a rare gem amidst the coals. It is why you are still alive.”

“Why you let me live,” Cloud translated.

Sephiroth hummed his agreement.

Cloud gulped. “If I promise not to run, will you unchain me?”

Sephiroth chuckled. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Cloud. I know you better than you know yourself. One way or another, you will try and escape. It is your nature to defy me.”

The blonde sagged in disappointment, although the response wasn’t entirely unexpected. “Why try so hard to make me compliant, then?”

Sephiroth smiled, almost fondly. “Because that is _my_ nature.”

“I don’t get it. What _am_ I to you? Why am I so important?” When Sephiroth didn’t respond, Cloud gazed at him beseechingly. “Please just tell me - I don’t understand what’s going on.”

The Silver General sighed. “You hate me, yes?”

Blue eyes widened in surprise. Cloud looked around nervously. This had to be a trap. “Uh…am I allowed to even answer that?”

A nod. “So long as it’s the truth.”

Cloud swallowed. “You’re not gonna beat me if I say the wrong thing?”

Sephiroth smirked. “Not this time.”

The blonde shuddered, leaning his head back against the wall and staring mournfully up at the ceiling. “You burned down my home and killed my mom,” he sighed. “How else am I supposed to feel?”

Sephiroth hummed, “And so you have made it your mission to defeat me.”

Cloud closed his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. “You were supposed to be dead,” he countered in a tired whisper.

His captor crouched down beside him, eyes bright. “But you understand, don’t you? That drive, that all-consuming _need_ to destroy?”

He didn’t understand – not really. Sure, he hated Sephiroth, but it wasn’t like he felt some sort of burning compulsion to fight him. He just wanted him to go away. He shook his head.

His captor hummed, green eyes blazing beneath those surprisingly dark lashes. “Well that is how I feel about you, Cloud.”

The blonde’s eyes shot open, wide with fear as his heart leapt into his throat. He sat perfectly still, shoulders tensing painfully. He felt his breath jolt in terror as he met the man’s piercing stare.

“W-why?” he breathed.

“Because you are my enemy, Cloud, just as I am yours.”

The blonde shook his head, dread pooling in his stomach. “We barely know each other,” he whispered. And it was true. He had worshipped the man growing up, but they hadn’t been particularly close at Shinra. How was it that he’d made such a lasting impression?

Sephiroth smiled, almost fondly, and reached out to cup Cloud’s cheek in a mockery of an affectionate gesture. The blonde froze, feeling way too much like trapped prey. It didn’t help that his captor’s voice sounded eerily like a satisfied purr as he crooned, “But you know that isn’t true, puppet. Deep down, you understand. Our actions bind us. Our fates are intertwined.”

Cloud’s breath stuttered. “ _Our_ actions?” he repeated.

That silver crown of hair dipped in a nod. “You have wronged me, puppet, just as I have wronged you.”

The blonde shuddered, shaking his head in denial. “I h-haven’t done anything!” he protested weakly.

“Not yet, perhaps. But you will.”

“You _can’t_ know that!”

For a moment Sephiroth almost looked sad. “I do,” he sighed, brushing Cloud’s cheek with his thumb. “No matter how innocent you may be now, I know exactly what you will become.”

Cloud desperately wanted to pull away. “That’s not how the future works,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Doesn’t it, though?” Sephiroth mused, eyes thoughtful. “I know you’ve sensed it – the déjà vu, the feeling like you’ve gone through this before.” Cloud made to protest but immediately a gloved hand was clamped firmly over his lips as the silver demon continued. “You cannot lie to me; I see your thoughts. You know something is amiss here. You have skills and knowledge you have no right to possess, fears that cannot be rationally explained.”

The blonde shook his head against the hand holding him.

“You don’t believe me? Then why ask me to spare the Cetra?”

Cloud froze.

Sephiroth removed the hand from his mouth. “You may speak now, puppet,” he said with a smirk.

But Cloud didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he had asked that of Sephiroth – only that it had felt incredibly important. _Still_ felt important. He couldn’t explain it, he just instinctually knew that Aerith was in danger, and he couldn’t bear to lose her again.

Wait – _again_?

The silver demon’s lips twitched in triumph as uncertainty dawned in the blonde’s mako blue eyes. “You can’t deny it, Cloud,” he whispered. “You can’t deny _me_.”

Without warning he lunged forward, grabbing the blonde’s left arm and squeezing. Cloud gasped in shock as a bone deep pain radiated through his bicep that he immediately knew came from something much more potent than a bruise. It was the same pain that he had felt back in the Drum when he had approached the silver demon on that bridge. But he had felt it before too, he just couldn’t place when or where…

“S-stop!” he gasped out, shaking in relief as Sephiroth withdrew his hand. “What was that?” he panted once he regained control of his breathing.

“A reminder; an echo of a future not yet come to pass.”

Something clicked – if only for a second.

“Or a past future,” Cloud breathed.

Sephiroth reeled back, surprise evident across his flawless features. “So you _do_ remember?”

But the moment of clarity was already gone. Cloud shook his head, wanting to change the topic. “If you hate me so much, why am I still here?”

Sephiroth smiled, almost sadly. “Because you’re not _you_ yet, puppet. It would be paltry revenge to kill you now. I wish to destroy my rival, not the child he once was.”

“And if I never become that person?”

The silver demon straightened. “I can wait.”

A little panicked now, Cloud grabbed at the man’s coat to keep him from leaving. “But you called me a gift,” he protested. “You said you weren’t going to waste it because I was precious.”

“And?” Sephiroth glared down at him icily, and belatedly Cloud realized that touching the man’s coat might not have been such a good move. Too late now.

“Was that all just…meaningless? If you’re just gonna wait for me to grow up or whatever so you can kill me, why say that?”

Sephiroth smirked. “Getting sentimental now, are we?”

Spurred on by the condescending look in his enemy’s eyes, Cloud snarled, yanking violently on the dark leather in his hands. “If you’re gonna kill me just go ahead and get it over with dammit! Stop tormenting me!”

“You’re not in a position to make demands puppet.”

“I’m _not_ your goddamn puppet!” he yelled, aiming to shove his captor away only to be yanked back by the cuff around his other wrist for the umpteenth time.

Sephiroth watched on amused, but Cloud had had enough. He growled angrily, pulling against the restraints for all he was worth. He heard his captor chuckle distantly, but it only incited him further. He couldn’t take this anymore. He was getting out one way or another.

“Cloud.”

He kicked out against the faucet, giving his aching shoulder a rest. _Dammit,_ why was he so tired?

“Cloud, enough.”

“Shut up!” He punched the wall, the tile cracking beneath his fists as he resolutely ignored the growing burning sensation across his sternum.

“Cloud, _stop._ ”

Letting loose a cry of frustration, he sank to his knees, wincing at the ache in his chest, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Had he really exerted himself that much?

“Foolish creature!”

Cloud glanced up at his captor in confusion, momentarily meeting the concerned green eyes before the world tilted alarmingly and the ceiling loomed over him. His lungs burned and his chest felt like it was being cleaved in two as his knees gave out and he found himself falling backwards, backwards, his restrained arm beginning to pull taut -

Only for his descent to be stopped abruptly as an arm was shoved hastily behind his shoulders.

Glazed blue eyes blinked open, slightly overwhelmed by the large pale shape looming in his vision. Somewhere in his confusion Cloud registered that he was looking at a face, and that Sephiroth must have caught him. He was saying something, over and over again, but Cloud couldn’t hear it over the rushing of in his ears. Was it his name? Gods he was in a lot of pain. There was a hand on his cheek now, tapping roughly, trying to get his attention. Maybe it was slapping him instead, because his head was definitely moving from side to side. Or at least something was moving. Maybe it was the room. It was hard to tell. Moving was hard; his limbs were so heavy. There was a dim green glow to everything – _It’s just the Mako tank_ – and everything hurt…He felt – he felt…like burning on his skin and there was green everywhere, there was way too much green…green eyes, green air, green liquid, green, green, green…His eyes flicked down and he remembered vaguely thinking _that’s a lot of red_ before everything went black. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

Heavy eyelids blinked open to blinding bright.

Cloud let out a soft groan, turning his face away from the source of the light.

“Good, you’re awake.”

 _Sephiroth_.

With great effort he rolled his head to the opposite side, brain sluggishly trying to catch up to his eyes.

“W-what happened?”

His captor leaned forward, silver hair pooling in front of his shoulders. “You opened your wounds, foolish creature.”

_Foolish creature!_

Oh. Right. He’d tried to destroy the tub.

But…

“Mako…”

Sephiroth quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“W-where did…the mako…go?”

His captor frowned. “There was no mako, Cloud. What are you on about?”

Cloud tried to shake his head roughly, but the movement made the room spin so he aborted the attempt abruptly. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cool surface behind him. “It was everywhere,” he murmured. “Couldn’t…couldn’t move…”

Sephiroth was silent.

But it was important – he had to make Sephiroth understand. They had to get out – the labs – they had to get out because it was feeding time…

He hadn’t even realized he’d tried to get up until a firm, but gentle hand was pushing him back down. Had he said all that out loud?”

“Calm down, Cloud. You’re not in a state to deal with this.”

Right. Right.

Wait – what happened?

Sephiroth sighed. “You reopened your wound. I had to use Cure to keep you from bleeding out.”

Oh. Was he still talking out loud?

Sephiroth’s lips twitched. “Yes Cloud, you are.”

“Oh…”

Blue eyes stared up accusingly at the silver-haired man. “You stabbed me,” he bluntly pointed out.

Sephiroth nodded, not looking the least bit remorseful. “Yes.”

Cloud frowned. He definitely didn’t pout. Mercs didn’t pout. “It hurt.”

His captor had ducked out of his field of vision, checking on something – his chest maybe? He heard him sigh. “Yes, being stabbed tends to do that.”

Cloud hummed, drawing patterns between the dots on the ceiling. “Have you ever been stabbed?”

“Yes. By you.”

_Oh._

“…Sorry about that that.”

Sephiroth’s face abruptly reappeared, wearing an almost comical frown.

Cloud wanted to laugh.

“You’re quite out of it, aren’t you?”

He could feel the smile creeping over his face. Were smiles supposed to hurt?

“Yep.”

Another sigh. “I’ll be back in a bit. You should sleep.”

Hmm. Sleep sounded good.

He could hear movement dimly, but it was quiet enough for him to close his eyes, welcoming the darkness as it embraced him yet again.

\-----------------------------------------------

The next time Cloud woke he felt confident that he was at least somewhat lucid. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of his breathing.

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out._

His chest ached dully where it was swathed with fresh bandages. The clean linens were wrapped tight – tight enough that he felt like his breathing was being slightly restricted, but he also understood that enough pressure had to be kept on the wound to keep it from tearing open again.

Dammit, he’d been so stupid. What was he thinking, blowing up like that? His eyes glanced over to the newly made patch of cracked tiles on the wall and he internally winced.

Sephiroth wasn’t going to be happy about that.

But then again, why should he care? The man had all but promised that he was going to kill him eventually. He sank back listlessly.

That was how Sephiroth found him when he entered the bathroom almost an hour later. Cloud didn’t look at him, though he was intimately aware of the man’s presence as he leaned back against the sink.

“I should reprimand you for your actions.”

Cloud didn’t reply.

“You have nothing to say to me?”

Cloud closed his eyes, trying to sort out his thoughts. “I’m tired,” he said at last.

He heard Sephiroth sigh.

He did not expect the man’s next words.

“There is a rift, in this world. Things are neither how they are nor how they should be. You are caught, between the past and the future and a mere possibility, and because of that I cannot let you go. You were once my greatest foe, perhaps will be again, but you are not yet the man I knew.” He paused, finally conceding, “I do not know whether to let fate shape you into him, or to turn you into something else.”

Cloud was too tired to shudder. “So you’re just going to keep me here, then?”

“Can you propose a more viable option?”

“You could let me go,” Cloud murmured, though the lack of conviction in his voice was rather disappointing.

“You know I can’t do that, puppet.”

Cloud cracked an eye open. “Stop calling me that.”

Sephiroth looked uncharacteristically tired. “Why? It’s what you are.”

“No,” the blonde whispered. “It’s what you think I _was._ ” He glanced up, making sure to meet that green gaze with as much strength as possible. “This doesn’t have to play out the way it did.”

His captor gave a bitter smile. “Fate is not to be taken lightly, Cloud.”

Cloud huffed, “Screw fate.”

Sephiroth hummed. “Your naïveté is almost endearing.”

“Who says your ancient wisdom is any better?” Cloud tried to prop himself up, wincing as he felt his wounds pull. “There’s no harm in giving it a shot, right? Can’t we just try to play this differently?”

The silver demon sifted slightly, as if the question made him uncomfortable. “And if that fails?”

“Then we figure something else out,” the blonde offered. He was way too tired for this conversation. “At the very least can we come to some sort of agreement? Like I don’t actively try to piss you off and you don’t try to drown me in a bathtub?”

Sephiroth smiled, actually smiled. “Were you always this forward?”

“You mean in my past life which I don’t remember ever happening?” Cloud sighed, shaking his head. “I’m tired, okay? I’m tired, and I’m in a hell of a lot of pain. You stabbed me through the fucking chest, Sephiroth; I’m not exactly in a condition to run or fight.” He scoffed bitterly. “What else am I supposed to do?”

It was a while before Sephiroth finally spoke. “You apologized to me.”

“Huh?”

“Earlier, when you were still out of it.”

Cloud leaned his head back. He was tired of the games, of the riddles. “Okay.”

Another pregnant pause. “If we try this…how do you suggest we start?”

Blue eyes blinked open in astonishment.

…

“Maybe move me to someplace more comfortable?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So parts of this might read kind of strange - I tried something different? Tried to do parts of it more stream of consciousness to reflect how Cloud is kind of out of it? It might honestly be a disaster. But uh...here's to taking risks? lol. 
> 
> If you're reading this and you're not from the United States, just know that at this moment in time I am jealous of you.


End file.
